


A Knight's Honor

by cathrheas



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, Degradation, F/F, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Promiscuity, Public Use, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, brief mention of implied choking i guess, i dont want to tag this as cuckolding but guess what..., thats basically what it is.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22384117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrheas/pseuds/cathrheas
Summary: Catherine takes pride in her life as a knight, but she helps people in other ways, too.
Relationships: Catherine/Flayn (Fire Emblem), Catherine/My Unit | Byleth, Catherine/Rhea (Fire Emblem), Catherine/Shamir Nevrand
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	A Knight's Honor

**Author's Note:**

> reading this isnt a good idea

The professor was one of Catherine’s newest clients—not like she was paying anything—but she was one of the most demanding. Byleth would ask her out to tea, and even when Catherine said no, she really did have something to do, then Byleth would be back the very next week. Byleth liked to butter her up with gifts, too, even though Catherine had said time and time again that she didn’t need flattery.

No, she wasn’t doing it all for flattery. Whetstones and flowers didn’t compare to the debauched scenery of her kneeling beneath a tea table, her face buried in Byleth’s cunt. Catherine wondered if Byleth knew how much Catherine  _ liked _ it, being forced under the table to pleasure Byleth in secret. Even if Catherine  _ did _ like it, Byleth liked it more, between the two of them. It was always so  _ easy  _ with her, it never took her long to cum. Catherine never thought to ask how many lovers she’d had. If she had to guess, though? Not many. 

“Catherine, you’re so—so good at this. Mmph...”

She’d become well-acquainted with the ins and outs of being a professor, it seemed. She expressed happiness through unabashed praise, trying to keep Catherine going. She could keep her gifts and her praises. Catherine didn’t need any of that. All she wanted was to feel Byleth’s thighs on either side of her head, squeezing in, in, in, until Catherine finally finished her off and she melted into her chair.

* * *

Flayn knew a little too well about Catherine’s side gig, and although she frequently sought out Catherine’s company herself, she found it deplorable that Catherine let herself be passed around. Catherine wasn’t sure if Flayn’s feelings were rooted in jealousy or a need to feel in control (which wasn’t unusual, for someone who was so often referred to as a child). No matter what her reasons were, Flayn was one of Catherine’s tamer partners.

...Although, she was a little aggressive.

“How absolutely filthy,” Flayn scolded, stationed in Catherine’s lap. She had balled Catherine’s shirt collar in her fists rather insistently. “How many people have had you today?”

“Just one, before this.”

“I bet you find that you are not satisfied.”

“Me? I guess not...”

Catherine considered arguing, but the outcome was always the same, anyway. Flayn was wet, Catherine knew it. It was like she could feel Flayn’s arousal even through their layers of clothes. Flayn grinded down on Catherine’s thigh, frowning. “You need to be taught what a proper lady acts like! You’re too...” Flayn bucked her hips again, and Catherine held her waist, bringing her downwards. “You’re too loose with yourself, letting anyone do what they w-want to you! It’s disgusting, really...”

“I’m sorry, Flayn.” Catherine tried her hardest not to sound derisive. “How can I make it up to you, then?”

“With your body, of course,” Flayn said, as if it were the most logical next step. She lifted herself off of Catherine’s lap and took Catherine’s hand, bringing it to the waistline of her panties. And then, further. “You are not good for much else, are you?”

* * *

It was jarring, to go from the needy Byleth and the aggressive-but-harmless Flayn to Shamir, who was cruel and self-centered. Shamir seemed to be wearing her strap-on beneath her clothes at just the right times to catch Catherine in the hall, drag her to whatever shady, secluded corner of the monastery she’d decided on using that day.

And then she’d fuck Catherine senseless.

She didn’t talk much, and she hardly ever reacted to it all. Catherine was loud, though, and she wondered how long it’d be before they got caught. But in the middle of it, when Shamir was pounding her into a brick wall and wrapping a hand around her neck, Catherine couldn’t think of that. She was thinking of what words she could use, what whorish gesture would convince Shamir to let her cum, for once.

But she was never that lucky, and it never turned out that way. She just had to do her best to stay standing, even though her legs got weaker with every thrust of Shamir’s hips. Shamir started to breathe harder into Catherine’s back. It must have turned her on, Catherine figured, or else they wouldn’t have been doing it. Sometimes, though, Catherine wondered what Shamir’s motives were. If Catherine were in her position, she would have forced her partner down to her knees, used her pretty mouth, maybe taken a page out of Flayn’s book and reminded her of what a slut she was.

Instead, Shamir thrusted into Catherine until Catherine couldn’t help but moan, and Shamir would realize that Catherine was on the edge and she’d pull out. Catherine would pant and groan, sometimes spit out a swear, and reach a hand between her legs to finish herself. Shamir would grab her wrist—too quick, too cool, too collected—and laugh, curtly.

“Not yet. Rhea would lose it if she knew I let you.”

* * *

Shamir was right. Rhea was the last person of the day, and of course, she always came right after Shamir, when Catherine was tired and sore and needy. Catherine would amble over to Rhea’s room and fall into Rhea’s bed, her arms, and recount the day’s experience. She had her back to Rhea’s chest; with Rhea’s face out of view, Catherine felt content to close her eyes.

“How was your day, my love?” Rhea took Catherine’s hair out of its tie and combed it through with her fingers. “Same as always?”

“Just about,” Catherine said. 

“Tell me, anyway.”

Rhea’s hand went into Catherine’s pants, and  _ oh, _ she needed that touch. Nobody had touched her there, not since the night before when they had done the same thing. “The Professor invited me for tea this morning, but she wanted...yeah. She wanted me under the table again...”

“I see. How did you do?”

“Great, as always! I can’t do anything less, Lady Rhea.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” Catherine’s enthusiasm was rewarded with another finger, which her body took in eagerly. “Tell me more. Who required you next?”

“Flayn. She t-told me that I needed to be more like a proper lady, and said...some things that might be too filthy to repeat,” Catherine admitted. “She let me touch her, though. I had her finished in a few minutes, and she kept calling me a slut, a whore, anything she could think of.”

“You must have liked it,” Rhea muttered. “You’re ruined down here. Ah, or was it Shamir?”

Another finger. Catherine was ready to burst. She loved serving the women who wanted her, she loved coming back to Rhea and finally getting the treat she’d been denied all day. She knew she worked hard, she knew how she made people feel. She  _ loved _ it, and it was more than just an ego stroke. 

“Both of them, I guess. Flayn really turned me on, getting all forward like that, but Shamir...she really—she really gave it to me today,” Catherine said, her breath shaky. “I was so close, but then she stopped...”

“Good. You aren’t to finish for anyone but me,” Rhea said. The fingers inside of Catherine grew a little hasty, and she began to shake. Her eyes creaked open a bit, watching the visions in front of her grow blurry. “I do not mind letting others borrow you, but know that, before anything, you are  _ mine. _ Do you understand me? Say it.”

“Yes, I—I understand, Lady Rhea,” Catherine said. She was almost dizzy with happiness. She’d been turned on all day, thinking about all of the ways she’d touched those girls, been touched, about how good it felt. She thought about Rhea, who was waiting to finish her off and cuddle her and love her like the others didn’t. 

When her climax finally reached her, it hit hard, and she started to push her hips into Rhea’s hand. Rhea cooed into her ear, leaving a dotted trail of kisses up Catherine’s ear and to her temple. Catherine was good and wiped out, then. She couldn’t move a muscle. Rhea maneuvered them both into laying down, and Catherine mumbled a half-assed thanks.

“Sleep well, my knight,” Rhea whispered. “You have another day to look forward to tomorrow.”


End file.
